


Sister Dearest

by DesperatePeaceOfSecrets



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Thor (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Little Sisters, Love, Love/Hate, Other, Sisters, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:35:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesperatePeaceOfSecrets/pseuds/DesperatePeaceOfSecrets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amora's home is invaded by an unwelcome visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sister Dearest

**Author's Note:**

> You might want to have read Apples first, though it's not needed.

Sleep broke over her in a wave. Without expenditure of magic Amora could go weeks without sleep, but today she'd used an awful lot. She'd just managed to text a couple of the boys she'd been courting, when she gave up the fight. Crawling between her silk sheets was less easy than she'd like to admit. Silk sleepwear on silk sheets was slippery, and she never wore anything less to sleep.

Dreams faded in and out, but she slept on, albeit fitfully. At some point between waking and sleep, she reached a hand out of the covers, and her teddy bear flew across the room to join her. She'd never admit it, but she hated sleeping alone. She either had a warm, breathing body to snuggle into, or the one teddy bear that managed to be given to her, and stay. Truthfully she couldn't remember who had given it to her, but the stuffed animal had just seemed right, and at least she hadn't named it. It was not too big that it was awkward to share a bed with, but not too small that she lost it amongst the bedspread. The size of a child, she thought, before pushing the image away.

Light dispersed the spell of sleep, calling her from the gloom. She was safe; warm in bed. Though, as soon as she'd realised she was putting her safety in the hands of a piece of furniture, she had to get up. Had to check the flat, the locks, the door. She crept around the flat on the balls of her feet. She was lithe, tense, her arms half raised.  
Paranoia didn't kill you, inattention did. And the Enchantress did not get ambushed in bed. How could she have been stupid enough to go to sleep, for Bor’s sake, without putting up some kind of spell, to warn her, or to stop them?! Still, it appeared there had been no damage done, and she had been thorough with not leaving clues to other Asgardians as to her whereabouts.

She stood in the middle of the room, and summoned her power, unclenching that metaphysical fist inside her, letting just a trickle out. She sent it on a reconnaissance mission, scouting the perimeter, but that came back clear too. She sunk into her chair, not realising how worried she had been until she knew she was safe. After a minute, she had calmed down enough to think, and she decided she needed a shower. She'd recently... Acquired a new power-shower, despite knowing she wouldn't be staying here for long. Stepping into it she remembered again why it was worth seducing that plumber. The hot water pounded against her back, as she rested her forehead on the tiles. She turned it up as hot as she could stand it, and then a little hotter. She had to use obscene amounts of shampoo and conditioner on her hair, but it was worth it for the smell that clung to her all the rest of the day, fragrant and fruity. In Asgard she'd just magic it clean, but she still enjoyed the water over her body.

She decreased the temperature of the water slowly, until eventually she was having a luke warm, almost cold shower. Refreshed, she turned it off, and stood there, ringing the water out of her hair, and letting most of the water drip off her, before she got the floor of the bathroom wet. She grabbed a towel, and stepped out. Instantly, she was on the alert again, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. Someone had just come into the living room, and it wasn't a normal mortal. She was betting Asgardian, but she couldn't be sure. She tensed up, not moving, deciding her next move, when a voice called, "Amora..."

"Get out." Came her reply. No, no. Please, Odin, no. What was this, test Amora until she broke down?

"You must know why I'm here, you're not stupid. Odin sent me, though you'll have gathered that too."

"Get out." She said again, quieter, less forceful. She had to sit on the edge of the bath. She could not go out there, not wouldn't, couldn't.

"Amora! Stop being unreasonable, and come out of the bathroom!"

"There is no need to shout at me, sister, dear." She spat, finally. "Really, Lorelei, you may act older but you are not our mother." Opening the door, Amora set her face jokily, as though nonplussed. She walked gracefully, and with ease. Refusing to hurry she went for her dressing gown. It was dark green silk, of course. She put it on, her back to her sister, before taking the towel off and tying the belt. She wasn't a modest person, as a rule, but in front of Lorelei, she almost passed. 

"Go on then," she called over her shoulder, "Give back what you took, you'll never survive the traps Odin has set, I hate you but I don't want my sister to die, it's useless." Amora whirled around, the first thread of anger breaking through her mask to show on her face. "Oh, oops, I appear to have said it for you. Get. Out."

Lorelei stood there, pinching the bridge of her nose, acting for the entire world the frustrated parent with a disobedient child. Amora hated that. Child she was not. Her sister moved around the room like she owned it, or was inspecting it. That apparently was she what she was doing, for she said, with a hesitant smile on her face, "Well, I'm glad you've found somewhere, and it's decent enough."

"What did you expect that I'd be living in squalor? I am used to Asgard's halls just the same as you." She couldn't help it, the sisters fought, they'd always fought. Lorelei was the only family she'd ever truly have and yet they still were at each other's throats. She hadn't even done anything and the first words Amora said to her had been get out. Why did she do that?

"No, I expected you to be shacked up with a man, actually. Or several men." Ahh. That was why. Silently Amora thanked the other woman for reminding her. It was not good to forget how her sister made her feel.

"Why, thank you, dearest sister, I had forgotten you had such a high opinion of me. No, I am not shacked up, nor knocked up, nor indeed am I whorring myself for shelter, as I'm sure would have been your next accusation. Tell me what you must, and either get out, or give me an appology I can't refuse." An apology that she couldn't refuse? Who was she trying to kid, they both knew Amora wanted to come back to Asgard for as long as she pleased and whenever she wanted. But only Odin could grant her that.

Amora sighed and ushered them into the sitting room. She circled, once, nervously. She then lowered herself into the comfy arm chair, resting her back against one arm, her left leg tucked under her body, the right leg draped over the knee of the left and the opposite arm of the chair. It was her favourite position to sit in, and she knew Lorelei would not say things quickly.

"Amora... I don't know what you've taken, nor do I know why the Allfather wants it back, but I do know this is not the way to receive forgiveness for past transgressions. And did you have to do the stunt with the apple?"

Amora now pinched the bridge of her nose, a deliberate copy of her sister, and sighed. She began to move her fingers with the inflections of her voice, trying to explain. "The Allfather has no right to the items I seek. The item I have will be returned in due time. As for the apple..." she giggled a delicious sensation as she remembered the sight of his face, "Let’s just say that it was a necessary distraction. Did Loki reverse it?" She smirked. She did hope he'd enjoyed having the Allfather ask for help.

"Nay, he did not, at least not yet. He agrees with you, says it's amusing. Amora..." the sister paused, trying to figure out how to phrase this… How to make her sister understand. "Odin is not happy. No, damn ‘not happy’, he is deliberating how best to punish you for this. Necessary distraction? It was you showing off! And, by the Norns, what did you do to Thor? He was just moping around Asgard when I left."

Amora struggled to fight her face from showing that she was pleased. She knew there was little or no hope for her and Thor, but it made her feel better that the memory of her made him reminisce as well. It was comforting to know she haunted him, even just a little, as he haunted her. She controlled it, and knew that Lorelei wasn't perceptive enough to have seen it.

"Maybe it was me showing off, but so what? Odin thinks he can punish me? He'd have to find me. Or catch me. Speaking of which, how did you find me?"

"Loki. He found you. Fear not, he says he won't tell the Allfather, but he enjoys the idea of us arguing again. Don't change the subject, what did you do to Thor?" Lorelei's face crumpled a little, her voice wavering.

Ahhhh. Of course. She still holds hope of wooing him, Amora thought.  
Well, if she thought she stood a chance, she was mistaken. He'd turned the Enchantress down, the most beautiful Asgardian lady, for that mortal, Jane Foster. He wasn't going to take the less pretty sister.

"I'm not sure you actually want me to say, Lorelei... Perhaps it would be best if we did let this go... " See? That was nice... “I would really rather we spoke about the letter I sent you. Don’t you see that as a more pressing matter?”

But Lorelei was not to be dissuaded from this line of questioning. She was infatuated with the Thunder god; some considered her more so than Amora, but her timid nature in the romantics hindered her. 

“No. I want you to tell me. We will discuss what’s happening in the magical world later, I need to know what you did to Thor. And I need to know, now!” Her voice rose in pitch and pace as she grew more and more agitated. The younger sister was not used to being refused anything, now that Amora was no longer around to steal her light. 

“I simply left something of mine where he could see it.” Sinking back into the seat, Amora uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, anxiously, but she would not volunteer more information freely. 

“What? What did you leave? And where? Amora, please…” 

The Enchantress’ heart wavered. This was her sister after all, and it was in her nature to create love where she could. 

“You know you and Thor stand no chance together now, you must have enchanted that thing you left for him to react like this, that’s it! Your magic is keeping him from me! You’re spiteful still!”

Well, now that was the last straw. 

“Lorelei!” The room darkened, the lights flickered around the pair, and the curtains drew violently to a close. Amora’s magic swirled around her, and she rose up, the only light now coming from her. She floated, her eyes bleeding to a deep black as she stared down at her younger sister. “Enough!” Her voice boomed, holding an edge to it that promised retribution, pain, anger. It was deeper, yet still lyrical, and seemed to Lorelei as if it held weight, as if it could cut. Indeed, Amora concentrated, and her power lashed out, leaving a shallow cut on Lorelei’s cheek. “I have done nothing to our Thor, I have left no incantation behind, and I certainly, certainly have not been the one between you and Thor. That would be the Lady Sif, or, even though it pains my heart to say it, the mortal girl. Thor loves you not, Lorelei, nor me. Gone are the days where I tried to ensnare him with magic, for then he was not him. He was mine, but a puppet on strings, obeying my every word. You think I could live with him like that?” 

She began to sink down, her green tendrils of magic slowed, wrapping around her like a blanket, as opposed to a savage, whirling storm. Her toes brushed the carpet, and she whispered “I love him, Lorelei. As surely as you. And I can’t…” Her voice broke now, as she sank to the floor, clasping her dressing gown to her, holding in tears unshed. “I can’t destroy him, even if it would mean I had him. Do you understand?! I! The Enchantress, am letting him go, unconquered and free to love that… to love Jane.” 

Lorelei sat there. Of course she did, she was never good with other people’s emotions. Amora stood up, composed now. She wouldn’t cry again over him, not again, and certainly not in front of her baby sister. Her tone was now dead set on business, and she threw some big sister influence into it too. This conversation was done. She would start the new one.


End file.
